


A Christmas Miracle

by fandomfan13



Category: Supergirl (TV 2015)
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-25
Updated: 2020-12-25
Packaged: 2021-03-10 20:15:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,767
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28262979
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fandomfan13/pseuds/fandomfan13
Summary: Any unusual and happy event that takes place during December, especially any event that takes place on or close to Christmas Day; or, how getting stranded on Christmas Eve leads Alex to her own Christmas miracle.Set post 2x08, but Maggie never went to kiss the girl.
Relationships: Alex Danvers/Maggie Sawyer
Comments: 17
Kudos: 75
Collections: Secret Sanvers | A Sanvers Winter Holiday 2020 Event





	A Christmas Miracle

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Bluestonearden](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bluestonearden/gifts).



> Merry Christmas, Gabriela! I went pretty canon with this, but I hope it still satisfies the "cliched meeting" trope :) I had a blast writing this, so I hope you like it!

“Fuck.” 

Standing outside in the freezing mountain air, luggage in hand, Alex had just pulled up the rideshare app to call her Uber to the airport when the notification came through. 

_Due to a forecast of snow for the Rocky Mountain area on December 24-25, 2016, all flights traveling from Denver International Airport, Rocky Mountain Metropolitan Airport, Northern Colorado Regional Airport and surrounding areas have been cancelled._

Alex groans. Rereading the email for the fifth time does nothing to assuage her sinking disappointment. 

Desperate and still hopeful, she pulls up the website for local car rentals, her fingers already growing stiff from the cold.

“Yeah, looks like it’s gonna be a bad one.” A bellhop, nodding seriously at an incoming guest, unloads luggage from a parked SUV. “Worst storm in the last five years, they were sayin’.” 

Well, so much for driving. 

She’d hated J’onn for making her come to this national intelligence conference. Spending the week before Christmas surrounded by stiff suits and decaying testosterone was not her idea of holiday fun - but the conference was nationally syndicated, and President Marsdin had requested the DEO’s presence, even if a clandestine one, to keep up appearances. As second in command, Alex had had little choice but to agree. 

She hadn’t made a countdown to Christmas Eve since she was ten years old, but crossing out the days until her flight back to National City had given her a light at the end of the mind-numbingly tedious tunnel. As she now stares down the real possibility of being stranded for Christmas, she sees that tunnel cave in before her eyes, snuffing out the light and the last of her hope with it. 

As a last ditch effort, she dials Kara’s number. Her sister has been M.I.A for the past week, a half eaten cruller and a hastily scribbled note on her refrigerator the only indications that she hadn’t just vanished off the face of the Earth. 

Although, technically, she kind of had. 

“ _H_ _i! This is Kara Danvers, I can’t come to the phone right now…_ ” 

“Damn it, Kara.” Alex growls. She hangs up and shoves the phone furiously into her pocket, not bothering with the voicemail she knows is already full. 

A powerful gust of wind sends a shiver down her spine despite her layers of warmth. She remembers growing up in Midvale, watching storms roll in from her upstairs balcony with Jeremiah. The skies would grow dark, the seas would rage, the air turning sweet with the looming threat of inclement weather. 

There’s no ocean around her now, but she knows the signs. 

With a heavy breath, she flings her duffle bag over her shoulder. No use crying over spilled milk - she might as well try to get her room back and hunker down for the storm. 

“Stupid fucking mountain weather.”

**x-x-x**

“I’m sorry, we’re completely booked.” 

Alex gapes. The woman - _Veronica_ , according to the bright name tag on her flannel - gives her that same look the barista at Noonan’s gives Kara whenever they run out of donuts. 

“I’m sorry,” Alex shakes her head, fixing her best _patient customer_ smile. She’d been using it all week for this damn conference, though manipulating pretentious white men comes a lot easier to her than dealing with hotel staff. “I _just_ checked out like fifteen minutes ago. I was here with that government conference in the Truman Hall?” She flashes her FBI badge for good measure, but her stomach sinks as the woman gives it a perfunctory glance. “My flight’s been cancelled because of the storm.” 

“I’m terribly sorry, Agent Danvers,” Veronica repeats. “We’ve already given your room away and we’re fully booked for Christmas Eve.” 

“Really? Not even one of those tiny single rooms down by the gym?” 

“I’m afraid not. I’ve just checked in our last guest for the evening. Everyone has been coming in early due to the storm.” 

Alex rubs at her forehead, fighting back a scream. She can feel the beginnings of a tension headache pulsing at her temples. “Could I speak to a manager? There has to be something else you can do.” 

The woman’s eyes flash, her smile widening even as her tone sharpens. “I am the current manager for tonight. As I said, we are fully booked. Would you like me to look into the airport hotel’s availability?” 

The airport hotel. She’d come across pictures of it online while searching for cheaper accommodations for this trip. Questionable bedding, dark rooms and musty carpets: Alex nearly shudders at the thought. She would rather risk the storm. 

“That’s alright.” Alex sighs. “I’ll figure something out.” 

“Very well,” Veronica smiles, the earlier bite in her tone melting away into a friendly demeanor. “Please let us know if there is anything else we can do to assist you.” 

Resisting a snort, Alex steps aside as the woman turns to the next customer in line. “Sure, thanks.” 

* * *

For what it’s worth, the hotel itself is gorgeous. Beautiful mahogany beams run across the high ceiling, leading to the huge floor-to-ceiling windows encasing the back wall of the lobby. They had decked the place out for the holidays, with garlands strung along the stone walls and an enormous Christmas tree set smack in the middle of the lobby. 

It’s the perfect holiday mountain lodge - if you’re looking for that kind of thing. 

As a stranded guest a few hundred miles away from home, Alex can’t find it in herself to appreciate the festivities. Not that she’d had any special plans for the holidays at home: Chinese takeout, a few glasses of Scotch, maybe a movie if she was feeling up to it. 

Any other year it would be Kara taking care of the planning, which would usually include some sort of holiday party and brunch on Christmas Day. With Kara gone for the foreseeable future, there would have been no one to stop her from moping around her apartment, curbing fantasies of dimples and warm kisses until the Scotch could lull her to sleep. 

Now that she’s stuck in Colorado, those plans would need some adjustment. The Chinese food would have to wait. 

Alex sinks into the plush leather couch, considering the thought. She’s definitely had it worse, as far as being stranded goes. 

“Danvers?” 

The shock of hearing that voice nearly propels her off the couch. As it is, she jerks as if electrified, not totally convinced she isn’t hallucinating. “ _Maggie?_ ” 

Despite everything that has gone wrong with this trip already, the last thing she expects is to see Maggie freaking Sawyer crossing the lobby towards her. She had last seen Maggie walking out of the DEO medbay, weary and blood-stained after her run-in with Henshaw. Though they had texted on and off since that night, they hadn’t seen each other since. 

She is pleased to see that this Maggie, however, looks much more herself - like the Maggie she’d seen the last time they had played pool. They had met at the alien bar the day after Maggie had tracked her down at Kara’s. What Alex had thought would be an awkward night of pleasantries and avoidance turned out to be one of the greatest nights they had spent together, a night she revisits frequently whenever she allows her mind to wander. 

Save for the turtleneck and matching beanie, Maggie could have sprung directly from Alex’s memory of that day, signature leather jacket and all. 

The faintest hint of freesia and leather wafts through the air as Maggie perches on the armchair to her left. Alex clutches at the leather cushions beneath her hands, a burst of pure longing opening a gaping hole in her chest. Maggie looks soft and open and beautiful, and Alex’s heart can’t help but _want_. 

“I thought that was you.” Maggie grins. The sight of those dimples would have knocked Alex over had she been standing. Jesus, she was not prepared for this. “Were you here for that intelligence conference too?” 

Alex swallows through the sudden dryness in her throat, forcing a smile she desperately hopes passes for normal. “Yeah. J’onn sent me under the FBI.” 

Maggie snorts. “Right. No wonder we didn’t cross paths.” 

Her heart hammers uncomfortably against her ribcage, but that hint of snide in Maggie’s voice garners a genuine smile out of her. “That inter-agency cooperation is only for National City, is it?” 

“Damn right. That’s social suicide out here.” Maggie nods seriously, though her eyes twinkle with disguised mirth. 

“How very tragic of you.” Alex quips with a grin. She gives Maggie a once-over, appraising the other woman thoughtfully. “How are you? How’s your shoulder doing?” 

Maggie’s hand lifts to cup her injured shoulder. “Not bad. Got the stitches out last week.” Though she rolls the shoulder back easily, Alex catches how her jaw clenches at the movement. 

“Right…” Alex raises an eyebrow, letting the disbelief show on her face. 

Maggie responds with an easy smirk. “No need for the look, Danvers. I won’t be playing softball anytime soon, but you did good work. You’ve got some good hands there.” She adds a cheeky tilt to her head as her eyes rake over Alex, and the look is enough to send Alex’s stomach swooping to her toes. 

If Maggie weren’t a natural flirt, she’d be wondering where this playfulness was coming from, though the effect it has on Alex is much the same regardless. 

Alex drops her head, heat rising steadily over her face and ears. She rubs at her own knuckles, working to dispel the image of exactly what Maggie’s hands may be good at. “Y-yeah, well...” _Smooth._

At Maggie’s teasing chuckle, Alex gathers enough of her bearings to look up, though the affection she finds in the other woman’s eyes nearly knocks the breath out of her. The look is gone before Alex can question what it means as Maggie’s gaze falls to the luggage at Alex’s feet. 

“Everything okay with you?” 

The reminder of her current state of limbo tempers the running tension between them. Alex sighs, deep and exhausted, the moment effectively broken. “Yeah, all good. Just...trying to figure some stuff out.” 

Maggie frowns. She glances at the windows where the snow has just started to gather. “Your flight not taking off?” 

Alex slumps back into the couch, barely resisting the urge to pout as sudden defeat hits her like a brick over the head. “The storm cancelled everything in or out.” 

“Yeah, it’s gonna be a big one.” Maggie says. “Do you have somewhere to stay?” 

Alex pats the couch with a wry smile. She sees Maggie’s protest before it even leaves the other woman’s mouth. “I’m fine.” She doesn’t think she could handle Maggie fussing over her. “Don’t worry about it.” 

But Maggie’s head tilts, her face contorting into her best detective look. Alex has seen her make that face a thousand times. It usually precedes some sort of breakthrough. “Danvers....” 

Alex feels herself blush under Maggie’s scrutiny. “It’s fine, seriously. I can crash here for tonight and try to get a flight out in the morning. No big deal.” 

“You couldn’t get your room back?” Worry flashes in Maggie’s eyes. 

Alex shakes her head, scowling at the memory of her conversation with _Veronica_. “They gave it away as soon as I checked out. And they’re all booked for tonight.” 

Maggie glances across the lobby, teeth worrying at her bottom lip. She seems to make a decision as she hops to her feet. “Give me a sec.” 

Confused and somewhat anxious, Alex watches Maggie march up to the now empty front desk. To her surprise, she goes around to the side and pokes Veronica at her waist. Even more shocking is the _smile_ that lights up Veronica’s face when she turns to chat with Maggie. 

Alex’s vision goes red as a roaring surge of jealousy burns that crevice in her chest. Of _course_ . The bright, blonde, blue-eyed _Veronica_ is tall and gorgeous and exactly Maggie’s type and of _course_ Alex ends up stranded at the one lodge with yet another one of Maggie’s girlfriends. 

She loses track of their conversation as Maggie comes around to the front and blocks the other woman from view. Rationality returns with Veronica momentarily out of sight. She has no proof this woman is anything more than a friend to Maggie; and even if she is, so what? They had agreed to just be friends, and Alex has worked hard over the past few weeks to set her feelings for Maggie aside in order to do just that. Leave it to Maggie to catch her off guard and undo her resolve in a matter of minutes. 

The sound of Maggie’s laughter pulls Alex’s attention across the lobby, and Maggie shifts enough for Alex to catch Veronica’s responding wink. The fire in her chest dulls to a throbbing ache, somehow more painful than anything that came before it. 

_Screw rationality_ , she thinks. Maybe she can get a head start on that Scotch. 

Lost in her own sulking, she barely notices Maggie return a minute later until the woman is practically yanking Alex to her feet. 

“Come on.” 

Alex scrambles with her luggage as Maggie drags her by the hand towards the elevators. The pettiness in her wants to yank her hand out of Maggie’s grip, but there’s a larger part of her brain that is far too gay to do anything but marvel at how amazing Maggie’s hand feels in her own. “W-what are we doing?” 

“You’re staying with me.” 

The shock of that statement nearly makes her face-plant right in front of the elevators. “Excuse me?” 

Maggie leans against the walls as they wait for the elevator, looking far too cool for the stuttering mess that’s become of Alex. “I couldn’t get your room back, but my room’s pretty big. There’s more than enough space for the both of us.” 

She has so many questions, she barely knows what to address first. “Maggie, no. I couldn’t possibly-” 

“Yes, you can. You’re not spending Christmas Eve in a lobby.” 

“But -” 

“No arguing, Danvers.” Maggie’s smirk is playful, but the look in her eyes leaves no room for argument. “You can repay me back in National City. First round’s on you next time.” 

A barrage of conflicting emotions barrels inside of her like a tornado. Alex meets Maggie’s challenging gaze with one of pure bafflement, unable to form even the slightest hint of a rebuttal. The entire day has gone so far past bizarre; she half expects to pinch herself and wake up in her hotel room, having dreamt the whole thing. 

The elevator doors slide open with a chime of welcome. Maggie steps inside with a grin that borders on smug, throwing a casual, “You coming?” over her shoulder when Alex remains frozen in place.

Shaking off the haze of bewilderment, Alex slips past the closing doors just as Maggie presses the button to the top floor.

“So you kept your room?” Alex asks. Out of all of her questions, this seems like the simplest one to start with. 

Maggie nods. “I was already staying through the holidays.” 

“Oh.” The sentiment seems a little too casual. “You’re not going home for the holidays?” 

“Nebraska’s a trek.” Maggie replies, offering Alex a wry grin. “Not exactly worth the three days I get off.” 

The elevator doors slide open and Maggie leads the way down the quiet hallway, their footsteps muffled by the plush carpeting. This hall is brighter than Alex’s had been, the walls a lighter shade of beige than the woodsy taupe her own had had. They stop in front of a large walnut door just a few doors down from the elevator as Maggie searches for her key.

“I don’t think the hotel will like you sneaking in a second person for free.” Alex says warily. 

But Maggie merely winks. “My friend Ronnie owns the place, she doesn’t mind.” The door unlocks with a _click_ and Alex follows Maggie inside, putting considerable effort into pretending that wink didn’t do pleasant things to her body. 

_Ronnie_. Could that be the woman from the front desk? 

The question is on the tip of her tongue when Alex steps onto the landing. Yet once she takes stock of the room, Ronnie is the last thing on her mind. 

“Wow.” 

The room is enormous, at least twice what Alex’s own room had been. A rustic grandfather clock greets them by the front door. The king sized bed sits beside the floor to ceiling windows and glass sliding door, leading out into a balcony. A full sitting area faces an electric fireplace on the other side of the room, a flat screen hanging above the mantle. There’s even a small Christmas tree lit in the corner, and a wreath hanging behind the door. 

“Where was _this_ room on the reservation list?” Alex jokes. 

“Pretty cool, right?” 

“My room was a shithole compared to this.” 

Maggie laughs. “I get the hookup every once in a while if I book early enough. I got stuck with this conference like six months ago, so…” She gestures around the room. 

Alex peers through the windows, looking out into the view - or what’s left of it, at least. “The view must be incredible from here.” 

Maggie steps into place beside her, looking out into the blank canvass of snow. “Yeah, it’s pretty neat. You can’t really see much with the storm coming in right now, but maybe tomorrow…” 

And there, with the heat of Maggie’s body so close, is where it hits her. She’s supposed to spend the night in this room. With _Maggie_ . She is expected to eat, and bathe, and sleep with this woman mere inches away - this woman, who has single-handedly upended her entire life and now expects her to spend the night in her room as if it’s no big deal. As if it isn’t the _biggest_ deal of Alex’s existence. 

Alex feels her defenses slip like walls crumbling into rubble, the storm of questions she has purposefully ignored charging forward into no-man's-land. 

_How are you doing this?_

Why _are you doing this?_

_Who was that woman?_

_Why don’t you want me?_

It’s that last one that has her physically biting her tongue, the sharp pain allowing her to recover the reins of her self-control. Maggie made it clear she wants to be friends in spite of everything they’ve been through. Alex won’t jeopardize the relationship they’re working to build over a moment of weakness on her part. 

Instead, she ignores the burning behind her eyes and shoves the longing deep into that cracking chasm within her chest. “Mind if I freshen up?” 

And Maggie, ever so wonderful Maggie, meets her with a smile that makes everything worth it. “Of course. Make yourself at home.”

* * *

“And you’re sure this is okay?” Alex asks. The glass feels cool on her back, even through her sweater as she sits against the window. She’s chosen the farthest corner of the room to settle her things in the little nook left between the tree and the oversized windows.

“ _Yes_.” Maggie says, adamant even through her laugh. Her head hangs nearly upside down from the couch in her attempt to look across the room at Alex, a book clasped to her chest. She’d tossed her beanie somewhere towards the closet, so the tips of her hair brush against the floor as her head hangs. “It’s more than okay, Alex. I’m happy to have you.” 

As grateful as Alex is, her guilty conscience still chides her for invading Maggie’s space. “Okay, okay. Thank you - again. You’re literally a lifesaver.” 

“Anytime.” Maggie smiles, the expression oddly adorable in its inverted position. 

A comfortable silence settles between them as Alex goes through her bags and Maggie returns to her book. It’s a few minutes later, as Alex growls to herself in her vain attempts to find her pajamas, that a knock on their door disturbs the quiet atmosphere. 

Maggie hops off the couch before Alex can even think to move. “Relax, I got it.” She lobs a dismissive wave in Alex’s general direction as she strides to the door. “Oh, hey!”

Alex loses sight of her from her corner of the room, so it’s with little amusement and a _lot_ of surprise that she hears a chirpy, “Hey, Mags.” 

Veronica. _Great_. 

“I brought up some stuff for you guys, I figured you’d have a lot of time to kill.” 

She hears Maggie snort, presumably at whatever Veronica brought, and the ache in her chest tightens that much further. She grits her teeth against the jealousy, shoving a pair of heels back into her duffle with a little too much force. 

“Thanks, these are great.” Maggie says. “Wanna come in for a sec?” 

An icy chill of panic runs down her spine. _Please don’t ask her to stay. Please don’t ask her to stay._

“Oh no, I don’t want to intrude.” 

Alex rolls her eyes. She’s grateful she chose this secluded corner, if only for the satisfaction of allowing her resentment free rein for these few moments. 

“Since when?” Maggie scoffs. “Didn’t I have to threaten to snitch on you last night so you’d finally leave?” 

Veronica laughs, high and uneven. Alex pictures one of those seagulls that frequents the harbor in National City. “Don’t start. You know why I was hiding with you.” 

“Because you’re a coward.”

“Fuck you, Sawyer.” 

Maggie’s laugh is loud and boisterous, the kind that crinkles her nose and pulls a smile so dazzling that her eyes disappear behind the force of her joy. Alex doesn’t need to witness it to feel the butterflies overtake her stomach. 

Alex doesn’t need to see her to know how special that smile is. 

Alex doesn’t need to be there to know how much it bothers her that this woman is the one making her laugh this way. 

She pulls her knees to her chest as she leans against the window, letting the bitter cold seeping through the glass ground her in her body. Jealousy has no rhyme or reason - there is no logic behind the creature that claws at her insides whenever she thinks of Maggie with another woman. This stranger may be a friend, an ex, a lover, an acquaintance... Whatever label fits is inconsequential to the depth of her feelings. 

She is in love with Maggie Sawyer. This monster that threatens to choke her with whispers of _second best_ and _not enough_ will continue to do so as long as her feelings remain. She’s stuck between the rock that rubs her raw and the hard place that keeps her wedged in. 

But their friendship means too much to her. _Maggie_ means too much to her. Despite the pain of knowing she will never have what she wants, the happiness that Maggie brings into her life is worth any internal conflict she may have to fight. 

She will just have to get over it somehow. 

Vaguely she registers Maggie speaking again, and it takes a second for her brain, clouded with heartache, to realize what is about to happen. “Come on, just for a second. I want you to meet Alex.” 

The rush of panic that comes over her then has her frantically searching her surroundings, as if her jealousy would leave any physical evidence to dispose of. Alex runs a hand through her hair and rubs at her face, trying to resemble whatever a normal human is as Maggie brings Veronica into the room. 

“Oh, hi!” Alex hops to her feet, hoping to keep the odd pitch in her voice to a minimum. She’s not sure she succeeds by the fleeting, odd look that crosses Maggie’s face. 

“Ronnie, this is Alex.” Maggie says. “Alex, this is my friend Ronnie.” 

Veronica - _Ronnie_ smiles. Alex wonders if the tightness in the woman’s smile is merely a figment of her imagination - if her subconscious wants to give herself a reason to justify how much she already dislikes this woman. “We’ve met. Glad to see you’ve settled in okay, Agent Danvers.” 

Veronica fails to use Alex’s first name, despite Maggie’s introduction. Alex doesn’t feel the need to correct her. “I did, yeah. Maggie came in to save the day.” 

“As per usual.” Veronica nudges Maggie’s side, to which Maggie rolls her eyes. “I apologize again for not being of more help.” 

_No kidding._ “No big deal.” Alex says instead. “It’s no surprise you’re booked solid, the place is beautiful.” 

“It is.” 

There’s a moment of silence as Alex fails to come up with any appropriate response. The air between them almost turns awkward before Maggie jumps in. “Ronnie brought us some board games for tonight.” 

Alex notices a stack of boxes placed on the coffee table behind them. “Oh, that’s awesome.” 

“The storm will probably knock the cable out tonight,” Veronica says. “They’re nice to have around. I have no idea what I brought, though. I just grabbed a few from the staff lounge.” 

“I’m sure we’ll manage.” Maggie meets Alex’s gaze and smiles brightly, the gesture soothing the bristling edges of Alex’s emotions. 

Veronica’s phone chimes with a text, one that makes her pull a face with whatever it reads. “I should get going.” She glances at Maggie between typing her reply, already backing up towards the door. “Let me know if you need anything else, Mags. I’ll be around.” 

_Finally_. 

“We’ll be fine.” Maggie follows behind her. “Thanks, Ronnie.” 

“Anytime, hun. I’ll send someone up with room service later.” Veronica nods at Alex halfway out the door. “Nice seeing you again, Agent Danvers.” 

Alex nods once, her smile more of a grimace than anything, but Veronica isn’t there to see it. Maggie walks her out, keeping her foot wedged in the door as they exchange quiet words in the hall. Whatever it is they discuss, Alex tunes them out. She leans over the table with the board games instead, running through the titles with only mild disinterest. 

She hears the door close a second before a warm hand lands on her shoulder. Maggie appears at her side, her smile tinged with worry. 

Alex sees the question in Maggie’s eyes, one she’s not prepared to answer without revealing too many of her cards. She offers her a smile before Maggie can ask, holding up the board game in her hands. A chess board, apparently. 

“What do you say, Sawyer?” 

She fixes her smile in place as Maggie searches her face, heart pounding behind what they both know is nothing but a lame facade. The hand on her shoulder gives a sweeping glide down the length of Alex’s back, her fingers grazing the skin at her waist where her sweater rides up. The fleeting touch sends goosebumps prickling over her skin. 

Maggie finally nods with a grin. “You’re on.” She squeezes Alex’s side, the playful touch setting Alex’s chest ablaze. “Set it up, Danvers.”

**x-x-x**

“ _And…_ ” A queen topples over. “Checkmate.” 

Alex blinks for a second. Then two. She takes in the board on the floor between them, absorbing the reality of yet another loss. “What the _hell_ ?” She flops onto her back dramatically. “How are you so _good_?” 

Maggie laughs, that same boisterous laugh Alex had heard earlier with Veronica. The dimples, the eyes, the teeth - they’re all there, exactly as Alex had pictured. Her heart flutters: this one’s for _her_. 

“Not nice when the shoe’s on the other foot, huh.” Maggie says. 

A memory flashes before her eyes: Maggie pouting over a pool table as Alex sinks her last ball of the game. Alex bites at the inside of her cheek, hiding the smile the image pulls from her lips. She sits up and tries for a glare instead, knowing she’s failed miserably at the glee that shines in Maggie’s eyes. “Yeah, well... Shut up.” 

Maggie cackles. 

“Seriously though,” They once again start resetting the board. “You’re amazing. I’ve never played against someone so good before.”

To Alex’s delight, the slightest tinge of pink colors Maggie’s cheeks as the woman avoids her gaze. “My aunt taught me to play as a kid.” She responds absently, her mind clearly elsewhere as her eyes run across the board. “There wasn’t much else to do where we lived.” 

Alex softens, surprised at the revelation. Maggie doesn’t tend to talk about her childhood often. “You lived with your aunt?” 

For a fraction of a second, Maggie goes completely still, her hand freezing in mid-air over one of her rooks. Her expression glazes over, as if her mind has left the conversation entirely. Then, as if someone has pressed the play button on a paused frame, she scoops up the rook and blinks away the haze in her eyes. The whole moment passes so quickly Alex isn’t sure if she imagines it. 

“Yeah. For a hot second.” Maggie pushes to her feet, crossing to the mini fridge by the fireplace. “Scotch break?” 

Alex takes the diversion, sensing they were treading on some sort of touchy subject. “Sure.” As she watches Maggie pour two servings, she catches sight of the expensive label. “A woman after my own heart. Where’d you land that?” 

“Duty free.” Maggie admits with a chuckle. 

Alex laughs. “For the conference? Were you planning a party with your squad?” Despite her own joke, Alex’s mind goes to Veronica. Had they had plans together after all? 

She shakes off the thought, accepting Maggie’s offered glass with a grateful smile as the other woman sits down. 

“You gotta prepare for anything, Danvers.” Maggie winks at Alex over her glass. “Came in handy after all, didn’t it?” 

Alex sips at her drink, refusing to give Maggie the satisfaction of making her blush. The Scotch warms her from the inside, a pleasant glow settling around them. “So what, you’re a boy scout now? Have any more toys in here I should know about?” 

A slow, sensual smile spreads across Maggie’s face, her eyes darkening considerably over the rim of her tumbler. “Wouldn’t you like to know?” 

The heat that buffets Alex’s entire body draws her eyes to the fireplace, a part of her wondering whether she might have accidentally caught a spark. The fireplace is cool and devoid of flames, but the desire that coils in her belly feels warm enough to set the entire room ablaze. 

Somehow, beneath her staggering arousal, a thin current of embarrassment runs just as hot. She drops her face into her hands, her cheeks warm under her own palms. “Oh, my god.” 

Maggie chuckles, but it’s different now. It’s low and throaty, and it sends a shiver of... _something_ down Alex’s spine. “You’re too easy, Danvers.” 

Alex’s rebuttal dies in her throat as she feels fingers comb through her hair. Maggie watches her own hand as it curls a strand of Alex’s hair behind her ear. Their eyes meet once Alex lifts her head, and for a second the world stills. 

Alex’s breath stutters in her chest. This...is a moment, one that feels heavy in its significance but somehow separate from everything that has defined them. A bubble has come around them, ensnaring them in a world where time and space mean nothing but the possibility of a new opportunity. 

She sees it in Maggie’s eyes - sees the apprehension, the awareness of the moment. Somewhere in the back of her mind, she knows it would only take a single shift in the right direction. 

But the monster inside Alex sees through her eyes. Its voice is loud, a shard that pierces the filament that suspends them together. _Not enough_ . _Second best. Fresh off the boat._

“Alex?” 

_You’re not enough._

The heat burns her throat. Her eyes sting. _I’m not enough_. 

Alex turns away, forcing a tired laugh through the lump in her throat. Maggie retracts into her own space, undoubtedly aware of the moment their bubble shatters. 

“Can we play something else?” Alex asks. Her voice sounds harsh to her own ears, as if the room itself resists the transition.

Maggie’s reply comes just a beat too late. “What, tired of losing already?” 

Alex swallows hard. She flicks at her own queen, shoving it off the board altogether. “I’d like to reserve at least some of my pride.”

* * *

They recover from their slight mishap easily enough. The games continue, their banter returns, and by the time dinner rolls around it’s as if nothing ever happened at all. Their dynamic has always been easy that way.

They turn on the fireplace when the room grows dark, the romantic implications of the atmosphere left ignored as the mere allusion the firelight provides. 

The Scotch helps, too. A lot. 

By the time Alex retreats into the bathroom to change for the night, she’s warm and fuzzy and just buzzed enough to forget about that nagging voice in her head. The hisses of _not enough_ fade into static, drowned out by Maggie’s laughter and the quiet stories shared between them. 

As Alex closes the bathroom door behind her, her eyes are drawn into the swirling mass of snow billowing outside their balcony. A total white out. 

“Damn.” Alex breathes. She pads over to the windows, mesmerized as the storm rages on. “That is some storm.” 

“Right?” Maggie’s voice comes from behind her, followed by the sound of the fridge being opened. She tosses Alex a water as Alex settles into the couch, a warm blanket thrown over her lap. “It’s pretty beautiful.”

Alex hums her agreement. She sips at the bottle gratefully, the cool water soothing as it quenches her throat. 

Maggie returns with her own water and their refills of Scotch. She sets them down on the table as she takes in Alex’s outfit, a grin settling over her face. “Cute pj’s.” 

Alex chuckles. Sexy sleepwear it is not, with the long gray pants and soft, worn blue henley. But they’re warm and comfortable enough that she considers it her favorite set. She eyes Maggie’s choice of pajamas with a purposeful tilt of her head, painfully aware of how much smooth skin is on display with the cotton shorts despite the gray hoodie covering her top. 

Later she’ll blame the Scotch for the way her eyes rake over Maggie’s bare legs and meet her gaze with a smirk of her own. “Ditto.” 

Maggie’s eyebrows shoot to her hairline, a surprised laugh stumbling past her lips. The reaction provides just enough courage for Alex to lift the blanket on her lap, offering half to the woman in front of her. Maggie slips beneath the blanket without hesitation, and the warmth that spreads through Alex’s side as Maggie leans into her pulls a contented sigh from deep within her chest. 

Alex passes Maggie her Scotch as she grabs her own, both content to sit back and enjoy the crackling flames in the fireplace. 

“There’s going to be so much snow tomorrow.” Maggie mumbles. Her fingers play with the edges of Alex’s sleeve where her arm lays between them, an absent movement that draws the entirety of Alex’s attention. 

Alex hums, lulled between the Scotch and Maggie’s fingers stroking along her forearm. She never could have imagined how such an innocent touch could set her alight in so many ways. 

“Who knows if the airports will even open tomorrow?” 

Not even twelve hours ago, the thought of being stuck in Colorado for a second night would’ve been her worst nightmare. Now, she gazes out into the blizzard outside, willing the heavens to do their worst. 

“Now there’s an idea.” Alex murmurs between them, hiding her grin into Maggie’s hair. 

She feels more than hears Maggie’s own snicker as Maggie lets her head drop to Alex’s shoulder, her body shaking with silent laughter. Maggie’s touch grows more purposeful, her fingers tracing patterns down to Alex’s knuckles. 

Alex watches the movement, hypnotized by the swirling figures. Swooping lines across her forearms, figure eights around her knuckles, the pads of her fingers gentle against the sensitive skin of her wrist, every touch sending pleasant tingles rippling across her scalp. She senses what Maggie wants before she even asks for it, letting the other woman flip over her palm for a new map to trace. 

“Y’know,” Alex starts, feeling warm, and grateful, and brave. “I thought Christmas was going to suck this year. Thanksgiving was certainly a shitshow.” 

Maggie lifts her chin, meeting her steady gaze with a smile, the firelight dancing beautifully over her face. Her fingers cease their dance across Alex’s hand, her palm gliding up her forearm instead. 

“But this has been pretty great.” The confession suddenly seems heavy. She feels something dislodge in her chest, as if the admission has shifted the tectonic plates within her. “Stuck at a mountain lodge during a blizzard with some good company and good Scotch. What more could you want?” 

Maggie’s head tilts as she regards Alex’s words, expression turning thoughtful. She lifts her glass for a toast, those brown eyes sparkling. “To good company.” 

Alex clinks their glasses together, one side of her mouth tilting sideways. The joke slips out without even meaning to. “To getting the hookup.” 

Maggie laughs, nuzzling back against Alex’s shoulder. “Yeah. Ronnie definitely came through.” 

The mention of Veronica is like ice water thrown over her head. That chasm in her chest burns hot and powerful - but something evidently did set loose inside of her, because the urge to confront her suspicions now feels unavoidable. “I - um - I actually meant to say something about that before.” 

Maggie, unaware of the change within Alex, merely hums. 

Alex swirls her Scotch for lack of any other distraction, watching liquid amber hammer against glass. Only when she jars the tumbler is there ever any risk of a spill over. “I didn’t mean to ruin your plans.” 

“My plans?” 

“If you were here to see her, or something.” Maggie lifts her head at that, confusion marring her beautiful expression. Alex immediately regrets the admission, grieving the loss of Maggie’s contentment. She yearns to take it back, to restore the harmony they had found with each other. But her voice no longer speaks for her. Or maybe her subconscious has taken charge, and she’s finally shaken this tumbler too hard, for she has no idea where her next words come from. “I don’t want to interrupt anything between you.” 

Maggie shakes her head, seemingly lost for words. “What are you -” And then it hits her. “You mean Ronnie?” 

Alex rubs at the back of her neck, shifting away from Maggie’s touch as self-consciousness heats her cheeks. Maggie’s free hand finds her own, her fingers pressing between the spaces of Alex’s knuckles. Beyond resisting any kind of touch from Maggie, Alex allows her fingers to spread, watching Maggie curl her fingers into the spaces between her own. 

“She’s an ex.” Maggie’s voice is earnest, whereas Alex had expected a tease. Her surprise brings her gaze to Maggie’s, finding nothing but truth behind the detective’s brown eyes. “Back from my Gotham days. We ended on pretty good terms. I went to her wedding last year.” 

“Oh.” _Married_ . _She’s_ married. “That’s - that’s nice.” 

Maggie lets the news settle before the teasing lilt returns to her voice. “You’re not jealous, are you Danvers?” 

Alex’s gaze falls to their joined hands, feeling how Maggie’s grip tightens around her own. The easy answer, if Maggie even expects one, is obvious. But for once, easy doesn’t call to her. Maybe it’s the Scotch, or the way they’ve danced around each other all afternoon, or how Maggie’s grown bolder throughout the night. Maybe it’s the fact that they’re spending Christmas Eve snuggled in front of a fire, in a beautiful mountain lodge, as a blizzard tears across the surrounding mountain.

Or maybe she’s just tired of holding it in anymore. 

“You know how I feel about you.” She’s not sure if she imagines the slight intake of breath beside her, but Maggie never lets go of her hand. “I meant what I said to you at the DEO. I’m happy this is my new normal. And I’m happy that we’re friends. But I won’t pretend it’s easy to think about you with other people.” 

In the silence that follows, Alex waits for the impending embarrassment to crash over her. She waits for the humiliation to set in, for the inevitable pity in Maggie’s eyes. She searches for those familiar urges to hide, to run, but finds only sweet relief. 

She’d held on so tightly to this part of herself - having been so afraid of what it would mean to let these feelings run free - that she’d grown numb to the pain that has all but suffocated her from the inside. Saying the words out loud feels like shaking the feeling back into a limb, the sudden burst of oxygen leaving her light and dizzy, but free. 

“You know... I almost went to see you that night.” 

Those words snap Alex’s attention back to the present. The pity she had feared is nowhere to be found on Maggie’s face. “What?” 

“After I went home.” Maggie’s eyes blaze in their intensity. Alex feels that penetrating gaze down to her very soul. “I wanted to see you. I thought about it for hours.” 

Throat suddenly parched, Alex’s eyes flicker to the coffee table. That bottle of water feels like it’s miles away. “W-Why didn’t you?” 

Maggie drops her head with a low, self-deprecating chuckle. “Would you believe me if I said I fell asleep?” 

Alex laughs, louder than she expects to. It shakes her whole body as she sags into the couch. 

“Shut up, I did.” Maggie shoves at her shoulder, laughing right along with her. “I didn’t realize your super secret agent pills would knock me out.” There’s an edge of bitterness in how she says it, as if the pills had committed some unforgivable betrayal. “I passed out before I could decide to go.” 

“Was there a reason you wanted to see me?” Alex pulls Maggie’s hand into her lap, cradling it between both of her own. “Did you have a case or something?” 

Maggie shakes her head, her smile fond as Alex plays with her fingers. “No, it wasn’t for work.” She takes a second to breathe, to let herself take in the woman beside her. Alex sees the moment her shoulders set, the moment Maggie places their glasses on the table and shifts to face her. “I wanted to talk to you. After the crazy shit that happened that day, me almost dying -”

“I would not have let that happen.” 

The obstinacy in Alex’s voice pulls a low chuckle from Maggie’s throat. “I know that.” Alex’s heart races under such an affectionate gaze. “But that whole thing just got me thinking. How - how _stupid_ I was…” 

Maggie pulls her hand out of Alex’s grip to push her hair over her shoulders. For the first time, Alex notices the nervous jiggle of Maggie’s leg; the way her breathing shakes on the exhale.

“I thought - and I guess I was kind of right,” Maggie grins, an anxious twitch drawing Alex’s attention to her cheek. “That you... that you came out for _me_. And that scared me. A lot.” 

Alex nods. That’s fair. 

Maggie’s fingers fidget in her lap. The urge to still the anxious stick is strong, but Alex’s own clammy palms would be a dead giveaway. She has no idea where this is going and that is _terrifying_.

“But Alex... I realized that night that life is too short.”

The use of her first name startles her. It feels intimate in a way she’s not used to hearing from Maggie. 

“We should be who we are.” 

Maggie curls a lock of Alex’s hair around her finger, allowing her hand to rake through Alex’s brown hair as she pushes it back behind her ear. The gesture is so tender, Alex nearly melts right there on the spot.

“And we should kiss the girls that we want to kiss.” 

The vulnerability in Maggie’s eyes knocks the breath straight out of her. She’s so stricken by Maggie’s gaze, she takes nearly a full minute to grasp what Maggie has just said. 

“You wanted to kiss _me_?” 

“I still do.” Maggie’s grin is bright and so wide, her dimples seem to leap off her face. “You’re pretty amazing.” 

“Why didn’t you _say_ anything?” Alex demands. It seems inconceivable that she’s spent close to twelve hours, not to mention the last three weeks, torturing herself over a woman that has apparently _wanted_ her this whole time. “Why didn’t you come find me?” 

Maggie laughs at the disbelief in Alex’s voice. “Because I’m chickenshit, apparently.” Her expression softens into something much more raw, a vulnerability that makes her heart skip a few beats. “You scare the life out of me, Danvers. There’s something about you…” 

_God_ _almighty._

Maggie Sawyer _wants_ her. Maggie Sawyer _likes_ her. Maggie Sawyer is staring at her like she’s the single most amazing thing to grace this Earth.

In her wildest dreams, she allowed herself to picture what this moment would be like. Giddiness. Elation. Disbelief. It’s everything she ever hoped for. 

The nausea is new, though. She’ll try not to think about that. 

“This…” Alex breathes through the butterflies, through the giddiness that tightens her throat with emotion. “This isn’t the Scotch talking, is it?” 

Maggie cradles Alex’s face in her hands, her thumbs stroking high along the agent’s cheeks. Each touch is electric, a shiver of pleasure rolling down the base of her spine. “Not at all. But I’d really like to kiss you _now_ , if that’s okay with you.” 

When they retell the story later, Alex will deny ever making the squeak that slips past her lips. Maggie’s smile widens, amusement twinkling in her eyes, but she doesn’t laugh. She just tilts her head, a silent question in her gaze. 

Afraid of what might come out of her mouth should she try to speak again, Alex nods. With her heart in her throat, she allows Maggie to lead her forward, a hand sliding to the back of her neck as the other tilts her chin just so. 

The first brush of their lips is tender, barely a kiss in itself, but the tingles it leaves across Alex’s lips draw a shuddering gasp from her throat. Alex feels the moment Maggie fully gives in, as the hand on her neck tangles in her hair, and a low hum rumbles through Maggie’s chest as their lips press together. 

Their first kiss was frantic, tinged with nerves and desperation. Alex had spent long nights awake in her bed, running through fantasies of further passionate, frenzied kisses that sent numbing sparks shooting down her limbs. 

Now she knows better. 

There are no fireworks this time around. No resounding explosions. No sparks behind her eyelids. There’s only a roaring sense of complete and utter contentment, one that builds like a tidal wave inside of her, filling that crevice within her chest until she feels like she’ll burst with the enormity of the emotion. 

Every tug of Maggie’s lips, every scrape of her teeth, every swipe of her tongue echoes the same thrilling mantra, shining a light into every darkened corner of her being until the monster inside of her drowns in its power. 

Finally. Finally. _Finally._

They break apart with a gasping breath, chests heaving against each other as Alex’s forehead rests against Maggie’s. A tear slips unbidden out of the corner of her eye, the only physical evidence of the magnitude of her emotions. 

Maggie wipes it away with a tender swipe of her thumb, and it’s the care behind that gesture that allows Alex to open her eyes. 

Her expression is cautious as Maggie meets Alex’s gaze. There’s a hesitation behind her eyes that breaks Alex’s heart. This woman has flipped Alex’s entire world upside down and somehow, _somehow_ she still has no idea what she provokes in her. 

Alex cups Maggie’s cheek in her palm, her thumb grazing over the ghost of a dimple. With that gentle hold, she tilts Maggie’s head and presses a long, lingering kiss to her forehead. 

Maggie exhales a shuddering sigh, her body sagging into Alex as a hand comes up to grasp at the agent’s wrist. 

“So, um,” Voice hoarse and mouth pathetically dry, Alex licks at her dry lips, her brain short-circuiting as Maggie’s eyes follow the movement. “You’re saying you like me, right?” 

Maggie laughs, breathless and bright and so, so beautiful. “What do you think?” She pulls Alex into another kiss, murmuring reverently against her lips. “You’re not gonna go crazy on me, are you?” 

The force of Alex’s smile is enough to break their kiss as reality finally catches up to her. Her heart feels fit to burst, giddiness ballooning in her chest to the point where she can hardly catch her breath. “Probably.” 

Maggie brings their mouths together in what Alex can only describe as a blistering, mind-blowing, open-mouthed kiss. She can only clutch at Maggie’s shoulders and hold on for the ride, her soul igniting with the undeniable spark they have finally fanned into existence. Alex’s mind goes blank as Maggie catches her bottom lip between her teeth and _tugs_ , murmuring a low noise into Alex’s mouth as Alex pants against her. 

“Jesus _Christ_ .” Alex gasps. She rests her forehead against Maggie’s temple, head spinning, senses overwhelmed with the reality of their embrace. Every part of her burns with want. Her hands catch at Maggie’s hair, fingers running through the silky strands just because she _can._ Maggie hums low in her throat, every muscle below Alex’s navel clenching at the noise. 

“Definitely.” she amends, breathless. 

Maggie bursts into warm laughter that she muffles against Alex’s shoulder. It fills her with such a deep sense of wonder, Alex immediately vows to incite that sound whenever she gets the chance. 

“C’mere.” Maggie murmurs. 

It takes some maneuvering, with how entangled they are, but they shuffle around until they settle into a comfortable position, Alex cradled into Maggie’s chest. Alex nuzzles into Maggie’s neck, breathing in freesia and the slightest hint of leather as Maggie’s fingers scratch at her scalp. Her eyes close against the feeling, and the world spins on its axis. 

“God, I feel so drunk right now.” Alex laughs. 

Maggie chuckles into her hair, pressing a kiss to the crown of her head. “Me too.” 

Alex leans back, squinting up at Maggie as her vision turns blurry. “Should - should we hold off, do you think? Until we’re sober again?” 

Maggie presses a kiss to the crinkle on Alex’s forehead. “I think we’re okay. Honestly, I think I’m more drunk off of _you_ than anything.” 

An honest to god _giggle_ bursts from her lips as Alex grins against Maggie’s neck. “Same.” Her hand finds its way under the edge of Maggie’s hoodie, twin groans echoing together when Alex makes contact with taut, warm skin.

“But if it bothers you, I’ll tell you what.” A hand tangles in Alex’s hair as another covers the hand resting on Maggie’s bare stomach. “We’ll go to sleep. You take that big bed over there and I’ll stay here on the couch. And in the morning, when we’re both sober, I’ll kiss you again and we’ll have this out one more time. How does that sound?” 

Alex’s lips purse off to the side as she considers the offer. “Okay, but I have one amendment.” 

Maggie snorts. “Of course you do.” It earns her a poke in the ribs that makes her squirm. “Alright, alright. Lay it on me.”

“We do everything you just said,” Alex says. She drops her gaze with sudden shyness, watching her own fingers play with Maggie’s on her stomach. “But you sleep in that bed with me.” 

For one terrifying moment, Alex thinks she might have crossed a line. Then, Maggie tilts her chin and, with a reassuring smile asks, “Are you sure?” 

Alex nods. “I want to wake up next to you.” 

The assurance on Alex’s face is everything Maggie needs. “You’ve got a deal.” 

As if fate decides to record the moment, the grandfather clock by the front door chimes its midnight bells. Maggie presses a hand to Alex’s cheek and captures her lips in a slow, toe-curling kiss. 

“Merry Christmas, beautiful.” 

Alex smiles, lifting a hand to brush the hair back from Maggie’s face. “Best Christmas _ever_.” 

And by the way Maggie kisses her into the cushion, Alex knows she agrees.

**.**

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**Christmas miracle**

Christ·mas mi·ra·cle

_n. any unusual and happy event that takes place during December, especially any event that takes place on or close to Christmas Day._

**Author's Note:**

> Happy Holidays, everyone! Stay safe!


End file.
